


Feuilly and Feline

by LuckyBossuet



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Cat, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:02:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26561836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyBossuet/pseuds/LuckyBossuet
Summary: Feuilly finds someone on the way to meeting and it thoroughly derails everything
Relationships: Les Amis de l'ABC Friendship
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8
Collections: Sewerchat Anniversary Exchange 2020





	Feuilly and Feline

**Author's Note:**

  * For [boom_goes_the_canon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/boom_goes_the_canon/gifts).



Feuilly is running late for the meeting.

This has happened before but, generally, that was because he had to work a longer day than usual. That was not the case this time.

No, today he had been running  _ early _ of all things when he heard a sound come from a stack of boxes behind the fish stall.

Cautiously he approached, the nerves vanishing when he saw what was hiding amongst the crates. 

Feuilly sighs. “Well I can’t very well leave you here can I, not with the darkness of those clouds.” He gently coaxes it out with soft words and gentle hands and places the precious cargo inside his coat, hurrying to beat the rain he was right about being on the approach.

* * *

  
  


“Has anyone seen Feuilly?” Enjolras asks the backroom of Le Cafe Musain.

The meeting had not yet started, despite it being ten minutes past the usual time when Grantaire and Bahorel had walked in carrying their winnings from bets on their latest boxing matches. This usually signalled everyone being present, but when Enjorlas stood to give his opening, he noticed that a ginger-haired fan maker wasn’t in his usual seat.

Some of the others looked around the room as if Feuilly might be hiding or just hadn’t been noticed yet.

Unsurprisingly, this was not the case.

Combeferre looks thoughtful as he says, “I saw him when he was having his lunch and we talked a while.” 

“Did you mention the meeting, if he would be able to join us?” Enjolras looks concerned at the prospect.

“No. We talked a little about a book he borrowed from Jehan, but that was all. He would have mentioned if he were unable to attend tonight.”

The group start talking, trying to think whether or not they have reason to be concerned at their friend’s absence.

“Of course,” Grantaire waves his hands as he speaks. “He may have simply become tired from his work, he wakes extraordinarily early to go to it, and have gone back to his home, neglecting to send word in his lethargy. It is not too surprising, especially if he saw how the skies were about to open on his travels.”

“Perhaps we should send someone to see, ensure he is well,” Joly suggests, “I’m sure he’d want to check on any-”

He’s cut off by the door opening and Feuilly walking in, a strange bulge in the chest of his worn jacket.

Feuilly hurries to offer an apology. “Please forgive my lateness, I was held up by-”

“Mew!” A muffled sound from inside his jacket cut him off.

He tries again. “I was held-”

“MEW!” the sound repeats, more insistent this time.

“Monsieur,” Bossuet asks, “do you, by any chance, happen to have a cat hiding in your clothes?”

“I do hope that was intentional, my friend, else it is quite the un-fur-tunate situation to be in.” Joly laughs.

“Yes, it would certainly be quite the  _ cat _ astrophe if you accidentally wore your coat whilst unaware of a feline presence,” Grantaire inputs smiling over his wine.

Carefully, Feuilly reaches into his coat and pulls out a kitten, a small, scruffy, orange and white thing, mismatched eyes taking in the room as they adjust from the darkness of Feuilly’s coat to the candlelight.

However, the kitten quickly decides it doesn’t want to be held and wiggles out of Feuilly’s hands, twisting as it falls to the floor and becomes a blur as it hides under one of the tables.

“I found it in some crates, near the market.” Feuilly tries approaching the table as Joly moves away from it, he doesn’t do well around cat fur. “I could not just leave the poor thing in there.”

When he reaches the table he kneels in front of it and reaches a hand under just as the kitten rushes away again. It doesn’t quite have control of stopping yet, as evidenced by the small thud and mew it makes as it goes headfirst into the side of Grantaire’s boot.

Grantaire lifts the kitten up, carefully and announces, “It’s a boy!” before placing down his bottle and holding the kitten close. “He is shivering, too.” He rubs the thin cat’s back with his sleeve, trying to get warmth back into him, before handing him back to Feuilly.

“We should name him,” Jehan says.

“I- I can not keep a cat,” Feuilly protests, “I could not afford it. To be truthful, I do not even know if my landlord would allow it.”

“Perhaps he could be our mascot!” Courfeyrac suggests, “I can house him, I already have Pontmercy, what is another small housemate? Or we can share the creature, take it in turns to keep him, save for dear Joly, and by extension Lesgle, of course.” Joly nods in thanks at the exception, fur truly would have his system waring against him in protest for weeks, even after the creature moves on.

“If he is to be yours, then perhaps you should name him?” Enjolras questions.

“Ah, but you’ll remember Chief, that I suggested him be our society’s mascot, so he is all of ours, thus we should all have a hand at naming him, or at least a chance to have a say.”

Combeferre clears his throat and says, “If we write a list of names n here, then we can vote.” He produces his notebook, normally used for minutes, but as the meeting had not begun, today’s page is empty.

He passes the book around and each member present writes in a name. The book is then passed around again, this time everyone makes a mark next to which name they wish to choose.

Feuilly reads the tally, as he is the last to get the book, “The cat’s name shall be named Felis, only just winning, with Mistoffelees in second place.”

“What does Felis mean?” Courfeyrac asks.

“Cat, in Latin.” Combeferre replies smiling.

“And Mistoffelees?”

Jehan shrugs, “I enjoy the name sounds on the tongue.”

“Mew!” Felis replies, whether in acceptance or protest of his name no one can be sure.


End file.
